I had a really hard time doing this :(
Edit it, give me suggestions, anything please! Thank you.
Hundreds of different stores. Teenagers walking around texting on their blackberries. Overpriced T-shirts. Waiting in line. I go to this place very often; the mall. As I hop off of the bus, I casually stroll along, enjoying the glamorous surroundings leading up to the grand entrance. When I approach the transparent doors, I wait for them to automatically slide open for me, almost as if they were like magnets, pulling me closer and closer. The graceful doors glide open, and I take my first step into the mall. As I enter Modells, the first store of the mall, a familiar, cool breeze strokes my face. I hear the generic theme song replaying the same few lines over and over again, "Gotta go to Mo's!" Even though Modells is not my favorite store, entering it symbolizes that I have entered into a realm of my own, a serene world where I am in charge. The mall distracts me from all of the disappointments in my life. That stressful day of school does not seem as stressful. That harsh breakup no longer seems like the end of the world. Apart from the dwindling size of my wallet, there are no problems when I shop. Everyone at the mall has one motive: to shop. Whether it is to shop for the perfect prom dress or something flattering, we, as shoppers, are all united by our purpose for going to the mall.
When I walk around in the gigantic enveloping walls of the mall, I feel as if a brand new adventure has just opened up for me. What new shirts are in style this fall season? Are ripped jeans out already? The best thing about shopping is that I am in control of everything. If I see a shirt that I adore, I am the one who decides if I want to buy it or not. There is no pressure in making a choice, unlike the decision of whether or not one should study in school. If one does not study in school, there will be severe consequences such as not getting into college or dropping out of high school. However, if one does not buy that shirt, there will not be negative consequences. That is the beauty of shopping. One has an abundant number of choices.
As I stroll into my favorite shop, Urban Outfitters, I see many different salespeople walking around. Some quietly fold the clothes into a neat rectangular shape while others eagerly immerse with the customers. The best thing I like about this store is the range in selection of the types of clothing it sells. The store does not center around a specific style. Take Hollister, for example, all it sells are t-shirts and sweatshirts with the words Hollister Co written all over them, and let us not forget the overrated seagull logo. Everything about Urban Outfitters is fashion, from the shredded t-shirts with witty sayings to the four inch vintage oxford heels. As I brush the pale blue fabric of a denim jacket, I search for something that appeals to me. The black leather jacket is cute, but it is too heavy looking. Those pair of shorts is quite chic, but wearing that in the minus degrees weather will cause me to freeze to death. Clothing should be, at the same time, fashionable and comfortable. As I poke around every little corner of the store, I search for that one special item that will brighten my day.
While it seems like all hope is lost, a bright green sign with the words "New arrivals." catches my attention. My feet, with a mind of their own, pull me over to where the new stacks of clothes lay. During my meticulous rummaging session into the endless heaps of clothing, splattered all over the table like paint, I see a bright flowery dress that is absolutely flawless looking. The colors were a bright yellow and grey, and the fabric felt like a soft silk, practically melting in my hands. The moment that I laid eyes on that dress, I knew it was the one. I rush over into the fitting room to try on the beautiful yellow dress. As I was pulling it over my head, a tag hits me in the face. I rub the spot where I was hit and look for what had caused it. My eyes fixate on the dark bold numbers, $69.99. A whole seventy bucks for a dress? Unbelievably expensive I thought to myself. However, I knew I had to have it. Pouring out all the cash in my wallet onto the counter, I reluctantly handed over my last four bills. I walk out of the store with a sense of fulfillment; my mission was complete, for today at least.
Everything about the mall just makes me happy, I enjoy window shopping past the LV store, I enjoy fighting for that last shirt on sale, and last but not least, I enjoy how the mall is an escape from the worries of life. As I stride out of Modells, I once again hear the familiar four words "Gotta go to Mo's!" Before I reach the transparent gliding doors, I take one last look and quietly whisper under my breath, See you next week, mall.
Everything about the mall just makes me happy, I enjoy window shopping past the LV store, I enjoy fighting for tthe last shirt on sale, and the last but not least, I enjoy the feeling of shoping ,free from the serious choice . As I stride out of Modells, I once again hear the familiar four words "Gotta go to Mo's!" Before I reach the transparent gliding doors, I tookthe last glance and quietly whisper under my breath, See you next week,the mall .
John Locke says children don’t understand elapsed time,
and when I was a girl it was true
and it remains true—
It’s been three hundred years and still my feelings for Locke
must pass unrequited.
I keep his book in my satchel
with other pleasures—
lipstick, Ricola, matches, binder clips, and a tiny bar of soap
stolen from the Renaissance Inn
where I sometimes cheat on Locke with another man.
At least objects endure—
see how my old sofa holds up!
Locke would look pretty good lying here
with his long face, his furrowed brow and center part,
he who too quickly flourished
and outraced this crowded place.
La duration, I said, trying to roll my “r”
when some new French friends asked
what I’d been thinking about.
John Locke et la duration.
They thought I said l’adoration,
which is also true.
Turns out duration is not a French word,
no matter how badly I pronounce it.
The correct term is la durée,
another word I mispronounce
though once I passed a lovely durée
riding my rented Vélib’ from the Seine
to the Sacré-Coeur,
where had I planned in advance
I could have spent the night in adoration.
Instead I only leaned my bike against the church
and looked out across the sea of human hours.
Audio: Read by the author.